


Sweet Dreams

by orphan_account



Category: Cinderella 2015
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Love, Romance, Wedding, fairytale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:32:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time since Ella had left her home at the edge of the forest, the young girl had slept a peaceful and sleep, albeit with a dream in mind. She used to even fear sleeping, due to the horrific nightmares that had once plagued her, but now her dreams were beautiful and precious replays of events of the day, shown interchangeably with those of past days. </p><p>That night she had dreamt of Kit. </p><p>They had been dancing in the Secret Garden to unseen music, her in the wedding dress he had not yet seen and he in the attire he wore to the Ball, moving to silent music that echoed that of the music they had danced to many nights previously, when she still needed to run from him in fear of what midnight would bring. Of course, none of that had really happened in real life, but Ella cherished it all the same as Kit's lips had touched hers. That, as it seemed, was the elected moment for when she was to be woken for the preparation of the day. Ella tried to focus on the possibility of her betrothed's kisses as she was unwillingly torn from slumber.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One - The Ceremony

For the first time since Ella had left her home at the edge of the forest, the young girl had slept a peaceful and sleep, albeit with a dream in mind. She used to even fear sleeping, due to the horrific nightmares that had once plagued her, but now her dreams were beautiful and precious replays of events of the day, shown interchangeably with those of past days. 

That night she had dreamt of Kit. 

They had been dancing in the Secret Garden to unseen music, her in the wedding dress he had not yet seen and he in the attire he wore to the Ball, moving to silent music that echoed that of the music they had danced to many nights previously, when she still needed to run from him in fear of what midnight would bring. Of course, none of that had really happened in real life, but Ella cherished it all the same as Kit's lips had touched hers. That, as it seemed, was the elected moment for when she was to be woken for the preparation of the day. Ella tried to focus on the possibility of her betrothed's kisses as she was unwillingly torn from slumber. 

She had quickly bathed in warmer water than she was accustomed to (colder than iced over pond water, I assure you), and her hair was briefly brushed before Mistress Vieuste, the Head Seamstress for the Royal Family, came barging in with Ella's ladies in waiting on hand and an army of servants quite possibly ten times the size of the actual military. Needless to say, she did not acquire a peaceful moment from then on. This was her wedding day, and everything had to be perfect. Ella, personally, thought it would be perfect no matter what she looked like, just as long as she successfully married the love of her life, but her opinion was one of the minority. 

The young girl could barely hold in the delighted feeling she had when the dress was brought to life about her, yards of silks delicately pressed and embroidered with colourful flowers. Ella had, herself, helped design the dress and knew that every one of those flowers grew in the fields about her family's manse. These were the flowers she had grown up with, running in between them chasing the latest adorable addition to her friends and laughing with her beloved mother and father in between. She would never, ever be afraid with these flowers surrounding her. It was so different from her ballgown, the dress, as everyone saw when she was finally fitted into it. It was a white colour that matched the falling snow outside the window, and in it she looked like an angel with a halo of golden ringlets cascading over her shoulders and down her back.

When her hair was perfectly styled, shoes of golden flowers placed on stockinged feet and floral perfume that made Ella think only of happiness was applied, she was carefully lead off the fitting stool. All the surrounding ladies breathed put adoring sighs and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks as they all complimented her and Mistress Vieuste on their achievements.   
_

Kit had arrived at the Cathedral some hours before, moving about the ancient structure wistfully as the guests began to arrive, greeting them with as much enthusiasm he could muster. All his attention, however, remained completely and utterly on one who had yet to arrived. At one stage the Grand Duke had taken him aside to inquire as to whether or not he had seen a specific group of guests arrive (a set of four middle aged women, the leader of which sporting platinum gold hair tightly styled and a silver dress that looked oddly mystical), his old ways as Captain of the Guard getting the better of him. The King had also failed to see them make use of the main entrance, but as none of them seemed likely to pull out a rapier anytime soon they let it pass. 

His whole perspective had been changed by Ella. He knew now that wanting peace over war was no failure, that kindness and courage was favoured over strife and the false bravado battle made. And, most importantly, that there just might be such thing as magic. His mother had delighted him with tales of such magic as the fae that once lived on the moors between the kingdom and it's northern neighbours. The forest was the remnant of such a place. He had been musing over the enormous stained glass panel that provided most of the light in the building, when the Grand Duke tapped him on the shoulder to indicate the doors were about to open. Most iconic holy places had biblical scenes recreated on the walls and glass as decoration, but the little kingdom he ruled had always loved the beauty in fairytales and folklore. The lavish stained glass window above the altar, near touching the very ceiling, depicted the story of Snow White, the most dominant scene showing only a red apple in hand. 

It was rumoured, and widely believed, that the current royal line was descended from the legendary princess, Snow White, who's prince reinstated her into the sovereignty of her nation (Kit's kingdom) and joined it with his own. This unity did not live long past a generation, but it was a kindly gesture that had set maidens swooning all the same. Alike to Ella, Snow White had been forced to endure abuse from a cruel and jealous stepmother, too. There were others like it, with the tale of Sleeping Beauty (unknowingly misrepresenting Maleficent as a villain) from the north beyond the Forest and the Little Mermaid that came from the southern kingdoms on the edge of the Caspian Sea. Unbeknownst to him, one day Snow White's dark tale would be replaced in due time, near a hundred years afterwards, in favour of a tale of a missing glass slipper, the kindest and fairest of monarchs and their love that changed the world. 

Then the doors opened and Kit could not see anything except the shining white light that Ella seemed to give off as she slowly made progress down the aisle towards him, flashing him an encouraging and modest smile that made his heart shatter and heal back together a thousand times over. He had a ridiculous goody grin on his face that made him look like a drooling idiot, and he would have been mocked had anyone even thought to look at him. No one, however did. They all looked to Ella, and some even reflected his moronic expression but none were half so besotted with her as he was. As she reached him, he couldn't help but say in a low voice that conveyed to her how absolutely he revelled in her presence: "It's you, isn't it?" She let out a quiet laugh, more nervous and excited than anything else, slight tears welling in her eyes.

"Just so."


	2. Part Two - The Wedding Night

Anxiety had twisted in Kit’s stomach as Ella was quietly lead into the dimly light Royal Bedchamber, looking every inch a queen despite the simplicity of her nightwear and the flowing golden tendrils that fell past her shoulders. He feared so much, and all for her. She would hurt, and the pain might be worse than any satisfactory feeling. He feared becoming carried away, forgetting her and her needs and worries. Most of all, he feared for her happiness. This pure and strong hearted woman with an inspiration to love and care for those who could not deserved the world twice over. How could he ever compare to the world? Despite this, for some strange and obscure reason, Ella or at least someone (he was not aware this someone might have been an overly protective fairy with a maternal streak) had chosen him and deemed him worthy of her love and he hoped he could live up to be so. 

Ella, herself, was consumed by self doubt similar to her new husbands - how precious the concept was to her, that he was her husband and she his wife - and her breathing became irregular (though, that particular physical reaction may have been induced by the looseness of Kit’s undershirt). Would she be enough for him? She was completely aware of how utterly besotted he was with her, and she returned his affections with no reservation, but she could not help but wonder if she was worth his attentions. And she may not be, well, very good in pleasing him as far as nightly activities went. She had never done anything like that before, her first love was his and her first kiss his, and felt so unknowing (though she had been told a great deal in uncomfortable detail a few years prior what exactly everything was and what went where). Ella knew her Kit wouldn’t hold it against her if she wasn’t exceptional, but if she was to be the only woman he would know for the rest of their days she might as well be… enjoyable? She wasn’t sure how to phrase it, exactly. 

As the servants hurriedly departed and closed the doors, leaving the newly weds well and entirely alone, the pair had taken next to involuntary steps towards each other, unconscious of their need to be close to one another. And so it was that the newly crowned King looked on his brave and kind country girl, now his wife and queen, and allowed his hands to find her hair as he leaned in to press his lips to his, and she was, for a maiden on her wedding night, decidedly enthusiastic in reception. He felt, grinning against her open mouth, her hands delving in between the folds of his nightshirt and lavishly setting to work memorising every inch of skin she could reach. 

She was absolutely certain that the exact moment when sweet and innocent kisses transformed into hungry moans and gasps was burnt permanently into her mind, along with everything else that had happened that day and coming night. Years afterwards Ella could still feel his adventurous mouth changing course to trailing a variant of butterfly pecks to hot and prolonged kisses down her jawline, onto her throat and down to the hint of cleavage the nightgown suggested, his hands squeezing her hips as he buried his face in her chest, licking and biting as she came close to fainting, blood coursing through her. 

Kit could lose himself in her body, devote years to lavishing each inch of skin with all the attention it deserved and could spent days listening to the initially soft sounds that came from Ella, growing stronger and deeper as he found the tips of her breasts. Her head was thrown back, gasping for breath, but Kit could still feel her hands wandering over his bare skin, tugging weakly at the cloth as he groaned into her flesh. They had done this before, not to the same extent, obviously, but they were still on familiar ground - which was why Kit couldn’t understand what was so different as he tried to keep his head from spinning. All their previous escapades had been committed in full knowledge there was a line that could not be crossed, but now… Now that line was obliterated and their bodies knew it. His recovery was short lived as his entire upper body was exposed and Ella began to move lower in her exploring, hands fluttering across the well muscled plain of his lower stomach and couldn’t help herself from going lower into entirely foreign territory.

Ella had felt the pressure in her husbands groin grow against her thigh as he paused to soak in the sight of her, still concealed behind a flimsy silk cloth that left almost nothing to the imagination, and curiosity had gotten the better of her, her hands relocation bringing a severe intake of breath mixed with a deep groan from Kit. She wasn’t sure if she was meant to do it, and just as she began to puller her hand away he returned it, whimpering into her neck in a manner not befitting a king, but belonging to her Kit perfectly, and he proceeded to harden even more so. Ella didn’t know how to react or how she should feel, but there was a curious sense of achievement that she was the one making him harder, she was the one that made his head spin and heart rate quicken just as much as he made hers. The stillness her bold move had created, however, was not permanent and all at once his hands were roaming all over her, her other hand on his lower back closing the small space between them. 

With a longing sigh Kit felt his wife’s hand retreat as he gently guided her arm away, kissing her doubt away at the same time as he gently played with her bottom lip, before falling down her neck as he moved behind her to attend to the small stays that held her nightgown in place. Ella’s heart pounded through her chest, it’s goal of splitting her open very close to success, as his caressing fingers undid the last of the troublesome knots and met her spine, and Ella was sure that she had never been so aware of her body before. Her nerve endings tingled with delight as she felt warm hands encircling her waist and cupping her breasts as the thin fabric slid from her shoulders and pooled around her feet. Despite the flush on her skin that was insistent on spreading wherever Kits touch went, the roaring fire the servants had light hours previously and the heat that was burning through her, for many reasons Ella shivered, least of which the cool night air of winter. 

“I think we should get you beneath covers.” Kit offered, resting his head on her shoulder. Beneath heavy lidded eyes and through thick lashes Ella turned to him, a coy and knowing smirk on her glowing face, and claimed his lips with a newfound hunger. 

“Beneath you?” She suggested after a long, enduring kiss, her lips brushing his in an intoxicating way as she spoke. He grinned in response, and Ella could almost feel his amusement as his hands moved lower down to grip her naked thighs, hinting at so much more…

“Just so.” Kit agreed, and bent his knees ever so slightly, drawing her into his arms and carrying her, bridal style, to the enormous bed.

As he laid Ella down onto the bed, occasional shivers of anticipation moving through her, Kit knew one thing for certain in a world of questions and uncertainties beneath the faint candlelight glow. One, he would never, ever stop wanting or loving this otherworldly goddess that was the epitome of kindness, courage, love and desire. Her body, her heart, her soul… He knew himself to be greedy when he realised he wanted all of it to himself. Needed them, just like any other man woudl need water or light. 

This was lust, Ella decided as she sought a name for the irregular concoction of emotions in her, pure, unsuppressed lust. Lust that made her entire body ache for her husband, for Kit to be as close as physically possible to her. Lust that guided her furious hands as she tore at his remaining clothing, unbuttoning his breeches in a flurry of movement, his steadier fingers helping Ella in her last efforts, tossing aside the offending garment. She had thought her legs were strong from riding on horseback, but the power in his thighs as she wrapped her own about him sent a high pitched gasp through her. Blue eyes met hers, adoration and doubt in them, pleading for her permission and without a pause she nodded, hungrily devouring the taste of his eager mouth as a sharp pain that turned into an exquisite pleasure overcame her.

Afterwards their sense had died down, all their energy spent and drunk on each other, and exhausted they had collapsed in each other, content to listen to the others slowing breathing and relish the peace that had taken hold of them as the night drew on. 

“Sweet dreams, My Love.” Kit murmured in her ear, arms holding her steady in the night. 

“No dream could be sweeter than the one I’m living now.” Ella murmured, closing her eyes as she nestled closer to him. “I love you, Kit.”


End file.
